Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Tonga and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Banda Bassotti to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Marine Girls. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
Shoche,
Todd Terry,
Ultimate Spinach,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
One Last Wish,
The Beau Brummels,
Big Daddy Kane,
Half Japanese,
Heaven 17,
Mad Mike,
Guru Guru,
Technova,
The Fire Engines,
Section 25,
The Dead C,
The Count Five,
Bob Dylan,
H. Thieme,
Index,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kurtis Blow,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Slackers,
Excepter,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mary Jane Girls,
Simply Red,
Lalann,
Grauzone,
Lalo Schifrin,
Niagra,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Organ,
Silicon Teens,
Alice Coltrane,
Stiv Bators,
Basic Channel,
Nils Olav,
Yaz,
Gang Green,
Max Romeo,
Negative Approach,
The Offenders,
Pylon,
U.S. Maple,
Mr. Review,
KRS-One,
Panda Bear,
Eddi Front,
Flash Fearless,
Visage,
Spoonie Gee,
Schoolly D,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Loose Ends,
The Doobie Brothers,
Royal Trux,
New York Dolls,
Stetsasonic,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.